


bill and coo

by envysparkler



Series: Amplector [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddle Pollen, Enemy to Caretaker, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason just give your brother a hug please, Like desperately, Non-Consensual Cuddling, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Torture, Touch-Starved, Whump, chained
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 18:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30093189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/envysparkler/pseuds/envysparkler
Summary: Hood comes across a struggling little birdie hopped up on pollen.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Amplector [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114211
Comments: 88
Kudos: 620
Collections: Jason and Tim Enemy-to-Caretaker





	bill and coo

**Author's Note:**

> Because I asked 'give me ideas for my cuddle pollen Titans Tower AU' and apparently people took that to mean 'give me cuddle pollen ideas' and I kinda got sucked into writing mean Jason. And Dick is slightly more manipulative than he usually is in my stories.
> 
> Also I've finally gotten back on a work schedule for the past couple of days, and I don't know how long it'll last, but apparently it takes me 2-3 days to write a 5k fic if I'm not consumed by writing.

Jason hadn’t planned to detour into Robinson Park, but half the park was overrun by vines and everyone was giving it a clear berth, and since the thing was smack dab in the middle of the East End, he decided to check out the problem and ensure it didn’t seep into his territory—flamethrowers were fun, but also messy in an area where half the buildings weren’t up to code.

The fight had wandered to the west end of the park, so Jason felt pretty safe in poking around the east corners, keeping one eye out for a whisper of a black cape. The uneasy truce between the him and the Bats had been holding for the past two months—the Bats didn’t come to Crime Alley, and Jason didn’t stay whenever he crossed paths with them in other parts of the city.

It felt like a thread drawn taut, and Jason _knew_ it was going to snap, but he didn’t know what he wanted to do about it.

The park was deserted—people visited during the day, giving Ivy’s overgrown pockets a healthy berth, but no one was stupid enough to stay at night—and Jason was surprised to hear groans and muffled curses from an overgrown gazebo in the midst of a miniature jungle. Desperately praying that Ivy’s plants hadn’t gained sentience to the point of _speech_ , Jason warily stepped through the long grass and poked his head past rotting wood.

A slight figure, arms trapped above their head to the rusting metal latticework by several coils of vines, twisting furiously as they attempted to break free.

Jason grinned.

“Replacement,” he drawled, and the figure stilled instantly. Like a rabbit scenting a wolf. “Fancy seeing you here. How are you…holding up?”

The white lenses of the domino mask narrowed, half hidden by the trapped arms. The Replacement was braced against the far corner of the gazebo, and he tensed when Jason crossed the threshold, boots creaking against the aged wood. “Hood,” he replied, pressing back as Jason advanced. “What are you doing here?”

“I was curious about why Ivy’s having a tantrum,” Jason said, stalking closer and grinning wider as Robin flinched back. The helmet concealed his expression, but the amusement shone through his tone. “Now I’m curious about the little bird all tied up.”

The vines weren’t indestructible, the kid wasn’t in a particularly awkward position—both feet were planted solidly on the ground—and while he maybe couldn’t reach anything with his fingers, he really shouldn’t have had any trouble getting out of this particular bind. Jason stopped just out of kicking reach, and considered the captive figure. He was missing something.

“Go away, Hood,” the Replacement said, his voice betraying only a small waver, “This isn’t a fight you want.”

Jason laughed, he couldn’t help himself. The kid definitely had no shortage of bravado. “I must’ve hit your head too hard last time, if you don’t remember how that fight went,” Jason chuckled. He stepped forward, close enough that the kid could get in a solid kick to his midsection if he tried. “I highly doubt this is a rematch _you_ want.”

The Replacement shivered, but made no move to attack him. Realizing the futility of managing to hurt him through the body armor, or was there something else at play here?

Jason took another step closer. The kid pressed back, enough that the wooden railing started to creak, splintering away from the metal frame that he was tied to. “What do you _want_?” the Replacement snapped.

“Are you really going to play damsel in distress until the Bat shows up?” Jason asked—another step, and now he was looming over the kid, just one foot between them. “He _really_ must’ve been scraping the bottom of the barrel if he made you Robin.” The kid didn’t attack him. The kid didn’t move. The kid wasn’t _breathing_. “Defeated by a plant. Pathetic.”

“F—fuck you,” Robin stuttered, trying to glare up at him. And—swaying closer?

Interesting.

“Baby birds shouldn’t use that kind of language,” Jason said, but shrugged and stepped back, “I guess I’ll see you around, Replacement.”

Jason turned away, and the kid couldn’t suppress the gasp. _Bingo_. Pollen it was.

“What’s that?” Jason asked, turning back, keeping his tone confused even as he grinned in glee, “You _don’t_ want me to go?”

“Fuck off, Hood,” the Replacement snapped immediately, but he couldn’t stop himself shifting closer when Jason stepped back into his personal space. He made a small, choked sound when Jason extended his hand and moved it slowly, ever-so-slowly, until he gently cupped the kid’s cheek.

Robin sagged forward into his grasp, and Jason brushed his thumb over his cheek. Once. Twice. On the third go, he yanked his hand back, and watched the kid yelp as he struggled to stay upright.

“Someone got hit with Ivy’s pollen,” Jason said, making no attempt to hide the malice in his tone.

The Replacement pressed back, shaking his head, “H—Hood, don’t—just go—”

“And leave you here?” Jason asked in faux concern, reaching a hand out again—this time he brushed the bangs away from the kid’s forehead, careful not to touch, even as the Replacement swayed up on tiptoes to get closer. “To suffer?”

“ _H—Hood_ —”

Jason placed a careful, deliberate hand below his ear, curving along his neck, standing close enough for Robin’s boots to brush his. “Tell me to leave,” Jason said solemnly, keeping his grip firm but not tight, “And I will.”

The Replacement swallowed, Jason could feel the movement against his hand. The white lenses stared straight him, hunting for something he couldn’t find on the blank, expressionless red helmet. Jason waited, grinning behind the mask.

The kid opened his mouth, and Jason took the opportunity to brush a thumb along the curve of his jaw—his mouth fluttered shut with a quiet gasp. “No?” Jason asked, “Want me to stay?”

“Hood,” Robin forced out, but he couldn’t help but lean into Jason’s strokes, the pollen igniting craving for human contact, and Jason wondered how long he could play. Ivy’s pollen wasn’t a high priority as toxins went—nothing like Joker venom and its long-term side effects, or the mentally damaging hallucinations of Scarecrow’s fear toxin—and Jason knew that with Robin out of the fight, Batman would focus on subduing Ivy before he came back for his wayward bird.

Jason wondered how hard he could push it. If he could get the Replacement to _beg_ , to grovel the way he hadn’t at Titans Tower, looking up at Jason with resignation but no surrender as Jason moved to end the fight. The memory burned at him, igniting his frustration and rage and poisonous _fury_ that the Replacement still had the audacity to defy him, and he ripped his hand off and watched the kid gasp.

“One measly little pollen and you fall to your knees, is that it, Replacement?” Jason hissed, watching the kid tremble. Jason tugged off a glove and pressed his bare hand against the kid’s cheek, watching as he flinched, unable to stop himself from pushing into Jason’s palm. “Even weaker than I thought,” Jason said coldly, drawing his hand back _slowly_ and watching as the Replacement pushed further and further, yanking futilely at the vines tying him in place as he tried to follow Jason’s hands.

Fingertips slipped off his cheek, and Robin actually _whimpered_.

“How badly do you want it?” Jason asked, waggling the fingers of his bare hand _just_ out of reach, no matter how hard the kid tugged at the vines. He’d have to dislocate his shoulders to reach Jason like this. “If you sing sweetly enough, I might actually give it to you.”

The Replacement stared desperately at his hand, but his voice was rough as he snarled, “ _Fuck you_.”

Well, that was rude. Jason flicked his forehead—the kid made a sound like he didn’t know whether to be indignant or pleased—and watched as Robin kept struggling against his binds.

The kid had more fire than he expected, and Jason wouldn’t actually be able to break him, not on pollen alone, not without doing physical damage. And then Batman would get involved and the truce would crumple like wet tissue and—and Jason didn’t really want to _torture_ the kid.

Entertaining himself on the kid’s useless efforts to get away, on the other hand, that he could do.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” Jason asked idly, tapping a finger on the kid’s face with every word—forehead, nose, cheeks, chin. “You call yourself Robin and you can’t even tear through some vines.” He dropped his hand down, tracing the thin scar he’d left on the kid’s throat. “You call yourself a hero and you’re chatting with a drug lord.”

“We’re not _chatting_.”

He withdrew his fingers and watched the Replacement strain forward, holding himself up on tiptoes to get the fleetest sensation of fingers on his vulnerable neck. Jason used the moment to attack—his grip constricted around Robin’s throat, just shy of strangulation, and watched the kid not even _try_ to struggle.

“We’re having a conversation, and no one’s throwing punches,” Jason shrugged, “Sounds like a chat to me.”

The Replacement bared his teeth, but stayed perfectly still. “You’re really not going to try and fight me, huh,” Jason marveled, encircling the kid’s throat with both hands, “I could do anything I wanted, and you won’t be able to stop me.”

Robin’s jaw was tense as Jason shifted one hand to grip his chin and kept the other on his neck. “I could snap your neck like this,” he informed him. The Replacement’s mouth pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t shiver. That was fair. Jason wouldn’t have believed it himself.

He moved, reaching up to grab the kid’s arms. “Or I could yank,” Jason said, watching with a smile as Robin swallowed. “Now, I don’t know which is stronger, the vines or your wrists, but I imagine it would be acutely painful either way.”

The kid tensed, but made no move to tear himself free.

Oh, this was _priceless_.

Jason let go and Robin made a soft, choked sound. “Shh,” Jason crooned, rubbing a thumb along his cheekbone, “It’s okay, Replacement, no need to cry.” Now _that_ gave him an idea, and he listened to the kid’s breathing hitch as Jason ran a finger along the edge of his mask. On his second run, he traced it with a nail, completing the loop before wedging his nail under the right corner. “Shh,” he repeated as the kid tensed.

“Hood,” he said, in a tone at odds with the shivering, “ _Don’t_ —”

“If you really want me to stop, all you have to do is step back,” Jason said pleasantly, prying the corner free. Robin was as rigid as a statue, and Jason wanted to laugh—pain was too simple for the game he was playing, and he made sure to be _exceedingly_ gentle as he worried the mask free, peeling it off millimeter by millimeter.

Bright blue eyes came into view, narrowed and shiny, and Jason was glad his helmet could hide the too-wide grin he was sporting. His cheeks ached as he tugged the mask free, stepping _just_ out of reach again as he carefully folded the mask and tucked it into a pocket of the kid’s belt.

Robin was struggling against the vines again, twisting his wrists as he fought his bonds, leaning towards Jason as much as he was able. Jason caught his cheek in his bare hand, and watched those blue eyes flutter shut even as the kid’s face scrunched up in clear displeasure.

“You seem a little ticked off,” Jason said, rubbing at the frown lines—the Replacement kept them stubbornly in place, even as he relaxed.

“You’re an asshole,” Robin snarled.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

The kid made an inarticulate sound of frustration. “What— _why_ —just—what are you even _doing_ here?”

“I told you, I was curious—”

“What are you _still_ doing here?”

Jason made sure to lean close, making no attempt to hide the glee in his mechanized voice. “Having _fun_.”

The kid struggled uselessly against the vines again, and Jason stepped back—feathering his fingers against the kid’s cheek as he did—and watched as he writhed in place, furiously attempting to break free. It took a solid minute before the kid gave up, panting harshly as he pressed as far as the vines would let him, blue eyes latching onto his helmet in a silent plea.

The kid would be _humiliated_ when the pollen wore off. He was humiliated as it was—both cheeks flushed a deep red as he clung onto the last vestiges of his self-control. Jason wondered if he could actually get the kid to beg—even a half-defiant _please_ would be music to his ears.

He reached forward and enveloped Robin in a hug. The kid went rigid, breathing turning shallow, but Jason kept his arms curled around him, tight but not suffocating, counting down in his head.

“H—Hood—”

When he reached zero, he stepped back, and watched the Replacement visibly bite down the gasp. “What’s the matter?” he asked, tilting his head to one side, “Not enough?”

“Hood, don’t—”

The words stuttered into silence as Jason curled him close, tucking his head under his chin, this time counting down from fifteen. The kid knew it was coming—his breathing came harsher and harsher and he couldn’t hide the whimper when Jason pulled away.

“Seriously?” Jason asked, injecting disgust into his tone. Robin was shivering _hard_ , blue eyes watery, wrists constantly tugging at the vines. “You’re still not satisfied?” He reached out—and for the first time, the Replacement _flinched back_.

Jason’s lips curved into a smile as he chased the movement.

“Hood— _Jason_ —stop—”

“Pathetic,” Jason said harshly, grabbing his hair and tilting his head back into a painful arch. “You’re really desperate for it, aren’t you? Can’t be happy with what you’ve got. No wonder you became Robin—you’re a little cuckoo, stealing into other people’s nests.”

“ _Stop_ ,” Robin snarled, voice cracking, “Jason—let go—stop— _please_ —”

Jason let go. The kid nearly slammed back into the rotted railing in surprise, trying to recover his balance. “Courtesy will get you everywhere, kid,” Jason said when the Replacement shot him a suspicious look.

He was still trembling, shudders wracking his frame, constantly correcting his unconscious shifts forward to stay where he was.

Blue eyes went _round_ when Jason stepped forward again. “No—don’t—”

“Shh,” Jason said quietly, enveloping the kid in another hug. He kept his grip firm, encompassing the slight frame completely, practically hiding the kid in his arms. Surrounded and protected. _Safe_.

Jason listened as Robin’s breathing slowed, gasps dying to hiccups and hitched breaths, and watched as the trembling eased, as shudders died to small twitches. He waited, his chin resting on the kid’s hair, until his breathing was deep and even, his body relaxed, the drumming of his heartbeat back to normal.

And then he counted down from five.

The kid _keened_ when Jason let go, a broken sob tearing from his throat, and Jason laughed—finally, _finally_ there were tears dripping from those bright blue eyes, and Jason swiped one off with the barest brush of his fingers.

Robin was trembling violently, and Jason took a moment to glance at the rest of the park—he half expected the rustle of a cape at the first sound of a Robin’s tears, but there was no one in sight. He turned back to the kid, grinning, and—

The Replacement was sobbing. Actual gasping, heaving breaths as tears streamed down his face, shoulders strained painfully taut because he’d crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. Crying, loudly and desperately, shaking in abject surrender. He was—he was—Jason had dislocated his shoulder, broken at least two ribs, and _shot_ him, and he’d never gotten this reaction before.

Jason felt a curl of unease in his stomach. “Jeez, kid, how much pollen did you get hit with?” he asked, refusing to name the churning feeling in his stomach. He stepped closer, automatically curling a hand along the kid’s jaw, and sobs turned to broken pleas.

“ _P—please_ ,” the Replacement begged, and Jason nearly tore his hand back, “D—don’t—J—Jason— _I’m s—sorry, please_ —s—stop, please, _please_ —”

“Shit.” Jason let go—he _had_ to let go, he needed two hands for this, but he pressed closer, letting the kid press his face into the armor as he sobbed. The knife cut through the vines easily, freeing Robin—

_Trick_ , his mind hissed, _this was a trap and you fell for it_ —

But Robin just collapsed, and Jason had to hastily catch an arm before the kid brained himself on rotted wood. “Shh,” Jason said frantically, and the kid cried _harder_. “I’m sorry,” Jason tried as he crouched, tugging the kid firmly against him and shooting a frantic look around him—he swore to himself that he’d never again wait for Batman to save him, but Jason really wished the caped crusader would show up _right now_.

“Shh,” Jason said, louder—no Batman in sight, no _anyone_ in sight, and Jason desperately wanted to throw the crying child at _someone_ and leave. Maybe he could just—the kid was free now, he—he could walk—Jason could just _leave_ —

The moment he lifted one hand, the kid started begging again.

Okay. Not a viable course of action. Jason cursed inside his head and sat down on the off-color wood, pulling Robin into his lap. “It’s okay,” Jason tried, holding him close—the kid was way too light, was Alfred even feeding him?—and gently patting his back. The kid buried his face against Jason’s armor—that could _not_ be comfortable—and kept shaking, shoulders heaving as he gasped for breath.

This was not how pollen was supposed to work, and Jason thoroughly castigated himself for not walking away when he had the chance—sticking his nose where it didn’t belong was what he’d done as Robin, and everyone knew how well _that_ had gone. “Shh, calm down,” Jason said, more snappish than he was going for, and groaned at the sound of fresh sobs.

“Don’t—Jason, _please_ —I’m sorry—I _c—can’t_ —”

“Fuck,” Jason said out loud, and shifted—the kid almost _screamed_ , and Jason was extremely thankful that his helmet filtered sound—until he could stretch out his legs, slightly bending his knees to create a little hollow for Robin to curl up. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said slowly, glaring at where the kid was clutching his leather jacket so tightly it was going to leave marks, “I’m sorry for being an asshole.”

The kid didn’t look like he believed him. Which was infuriating, but also probably Jason’s fault.

Still no Batman. Figured. The guy never showed up when _Jason actually wanted him_.

Jason kept patting the kid’s back and tilted his helmet up to look at the patch of night sky in between vines and broken wood. This was, as Alfred would’ve said, a mess of his own making, and Jason growled.

Stupid Ivy.

Stupid Replacement.

Stupid pollen.

Stupid intensely touch-starved kids.

Jason glowered at empty air, and settled in for the wait.

* * *

Jason’s legs had fallen asleep by the time someone showed up.

His ass was numb, his feet were prickling, and he couldn’t even _twitch_ because every time he did, Robin clung to him like he expected Jason to pry his fingers off. The minute where Jason decided to crawl back until he found something to lean against had been painful enough, the kid had _begged_ with every movement until Jason wanted to gouge his own ears out.

“Well, this is certainly _fascinating_.”

Oh, _great_. Jason had been praying for Batman, because Batman didn’t _talk_ , Jason could just throw the Replacement at him and leave before he got anything more than a grunt. The black-and-blue vigilante crouched in front of them was unfortunately not that laconic.

“Just take him and go,” Jason grumbled—Nightwing would still try to talk at him, but he couldn’t chase after Jason while holding a sobbing teenager.

“Hmm,” Nightwing said thoughtfully, as though there was anything to ponder, “He seems pretty settled where he is.”

Jason glared, and cursed the helmet—Nightwing was _grinning_ , and Jason wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his stupid face. He settled for clenching his jaw and trying to lever upright—he didn’t care, his job was over, he could just leave—

The kid’s breathing cracked on a gasping sob. Jason froze. Nightwing watched them, expression unreadable behind that domino mask.

“Kid,” Jason said slowly, “Nightwing is _right there_. Let go of me.”

Robin burrowed further against Jason’s armor, trembling all over and clutching him with shaking fingers. Nightwing beamed. Jason took a deep breath and resisted the urge to shoot both of them.

“I,” he said, enunciating carefully, “Am _not_ going to babysit the Replacement until the pollen wears off.”

Nightwing stretched back up to his feet and shrugged. “I don’t see anyone here to help you, Little Wing.”

Jason was abruptly reminded of how obnoxious Dick Grayson could be when he wanted to be. “Really?” Jason growled, pushing off the ground—and wavering, because one foot was still asleep—and staring at Nightwing. He shifted his grip, until his grasp on Robin was more possessive and less protective. “You’re going to leave him in my clutches? Have you forgotten the condition you got him back in last time, or do you just not care?”

The Replacement shivered, but Nightwing didn’t rise to the bait. He tilted his head to one side and observed Jason, gaze intense, for a long, stretching moment. “I’ll take my chances,” he chirped finally.

“I’m serious,” Jason growled, “I’m not babysitting him.”

“Well, I _suppose_ B could do it,” Nightwing hummed, “But he’s in the Cave.” Jason gritted his teeth at the obvious manipulation. “The Batmobile’s around the corner.”

Jason stepped forward, Robin clinging to him like a koala, and Nightwing stepped back. “Is there some reason _you_ can’t do it?” Jason asked, stalking after Nightwing as the older vigilante headed for the park entrance.

“Yes,” Nightwing called back.

“Which is _what_ exactly?”

Nightwing stopped, well out of arm’s reach. “Payback,” he said, his smile razor-sharp, “And your debt’s a long one, Little Wing.”

Jason hissed—he knew this was revenge, and for all that he’d not fought directly against Nightwing and Bludhaven, he had tried to burn Gotham down with the Bats still in it. And nothing earned Nightwing’s ire quite like a threat to his loved ones.

Which really begged the question as to why he was letting Jason cart around his little brother.

“ _Nightwing_ ,” Jason snarled as he reluctantly followed the older vigilante to the gleaming black car parked next to the park, “I highly doubt the kid wants to be anywhere near me right now. Just fucking take him.”

Nightwing didn’t even have the decency to look at Jason as he pulled open the driver’s side door, “I don’t hear him complaining.”

Just because Robin had exhausted himself sobbing didn’t mean that he wasn’t still terrified of Jason. He growled as he yanked open the other door, glaring at Nightwing’s smirk.

Whatever the older boy said, he wouldn’t actually leave Robin behind. Jason could drop the kid inside the car, slam the door shut, and _leave_. Protect what little dignity that hadn’t already been ripped to tatters. It was the best choice for everyone involved.

Robin noticed his hesitation, and pressed tighter against him. “Please stay,” the kid whispered, hiding his face against Jason’s armor, grip faltering but desperate.

Jason took a deep, wavering breath, and got inside the car.

* * *

“Oh,” Dick said in a tone of false surprise, doing nothing to hide his grin, “Did I fail to mention that Bruce’s been benched because of broken ribs?”

At this rate, Jason would grind his teeth to splinters.

“Alfred,” he ground out, glaring at Dick and trying to ignore Bruce, who was still sitting frozen in the Batcomputer chair, staring at Jason like he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at.

“On vacation,” Dick called back in a sing-song tone, “Guess that means you _are_ on babysitting duty, Jaybird.”

Jason wondered if he could throttle Dick one-handed.

“No,” Jason said, as levelly as he could manage.

“I don’t think you have a choice—”

“ _No_ ,” Jason snarled. Fuck Dick. Fuck the Replacement. Fuck this whole goddamn family. “I didn’t come here to coddle a snot-nosed brat that should’ve learned how to dodge.” He stalked over to the nearest cot and let go—the kid clung to him fiercely, but Jason yanked his arms away and shoved him off, earning a breathless, choked gasp as the kid spilled onto the cot.

“Jason,” Dick said, voice hard. Jason stepped back from the cot, backing away slowly and steadily. Dick didn’t move. Bruce didn’t move.

When Jason was five feet away, the kid _wailed_.

He was trying to force himself up on trembling arms, tears spilling down his face, but when he realized that that was never going to work, he curled up, tucking himself into a tight ball as he shook with suppressed sobs.

Dick still didn’t move, gaze fixed on Jason. Jason called his bluff, and turned away.

He could practically feel Dick’s glare on his back, but he didn’t stop, heading for the entrance. After a few seconds, he heard Dick’s voice, low and soft, “Shh, baby bird, you’re okay, I got you, it’s okay.”

Something in Jason’s stomach unclenched, something he refused to name.

“Jason,” Bruce called out when Jason passed him, and Jason raised his middle finger without looking. _Let_ the old man try to stop him, Jason would take great pleasure in jabbing an elbow in those broken ribs.

“Shh, Timmy, it’s okay, I have you,” Dick murmured, a low litany of reassurances that Jason ignored—he wondered if it was better to steal a bike and crash it somewhere in Gotham, or walk out to avoid being tracked. “It’s— _ah_ , Tim, don’t—not—just, hold on—” Another choked sound, and a low hiss of pain. “I’m sorry, baby bird, I’m _trying_ —just—give me a second—”

Nightwing wasn’t injured. Jason thought back to the park—maybe he’d been moving a little stiffly, Jason hadn’t exactly been paying attention, or maybe this was a trick, just another one of Dick’s guilt trips, just trying to needle his way under Jason’s skin—

Another quiet groan, a choked-off sob, Dick’s soothing tone cut off by hisses of pain—

_And it was fucking working._

Jason paused at the edge of the Cave. Dick was struggling, trying to hold the Replacement while twisting his right side away—now that Jason was looking, he could see a shallow gouge through the Nightwing suit, and bruises blooming underneath.

Dick finally gave up, and visibly gritted his teeth, letting the kid curl around him and balling his hands into fists as he panted through the pain. The kid was tense as well, clearly trying to stop hurting his brother but unable to ease back.

Fucking martyrs. The whole lot of them.

Jason growled, seething, and stomped over to a nearby desk, ignoring the heavy weight of Bruce’s gaze as he unlatched his helmet and pulled it off. Shrugged off the jacket and folded it carefully, laying his gloves on top of it. Unstrapped the body armor, and unbuckled his belt and holsters, removing the hidden knives and finally toeing off his boots.

He kept the mask on. No one needed to see his eyes.

“Jason,” Bruce said, softer this time, and Jason ignored him. Stalked all the way back to the medbay on silent feet, and pulled Dick and the kid apart.

The Replacement made another gasp, but Jason had pulled him close before he could finish it, arms wrapping firmly around him. “Jay?” Dick blinked, looking extremely confused, “What—”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Jason snapped, taking a seat on the cot and getting comfortable. The kid’s shivering eased slowly, and Jason found himself absently petting his back. “Get those ribs checked out before you puncture a lung.”

“Jason—”

“Shut up,” Jason said, leaning back against the pillows and squinting at the dark, shadowed ceiling, “Or I leave.”

Silence. When Jason snuck a glance, Dick’s expression was pinched, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to smile or frown and was settling for constipated.

“J—Jason?” Tim asked tremulously.

“I’m only staying until the pollen wears off,” Jason informed the ceiling, “Don’t get comfortable.”

Tim immediately wriggled to get more comfortable, stretching out until he was lying on top of Jason, arms around his neck, head pillowed on Jason’s chest.

_Bats_. Give them an inch, and they’d take a mile.

The kid’s breathing evened out to something slow and steady as Jason kept rubbing circles on his shoulder, other hand stroking gently through soft hair. It was soothing, especially when the intense weight of heavy stares lifted off of him.

Jason didn’t know when the medbay lights switched off, didn’t know whether it was before or after the sounds of Dick’s shower died, didn’t know when the blanket settled over Tim and him.

He barely registered the cool, wet cloth on his face, rubbing at his mask and gently peeling it off.

He half-dreamed the callused fingers brushing hair out of his face and curling a stray lock behind his ear.

The last thing he remembered before sleep stole over him was a soft, deep voice in a low murmur, “Jay-lad.”

**Author's Note:**

> Jason wakes up to find himself still in the Cave, underneath a stirring Tim. Dick is smirking at them. Bruce’s expression could almost pass for _fond_.
> 
> Jason makes the executive decision that more sleep is required to deal with this situation, and rolls over, pinning Tim underneath him, because this whole thing is the Replacement’s fault and if he held Jason hostage for a whole night, it's only fair that Jason gets his turn.
> 
> The second time Jason wakes up, Tim almost whines when Jason pulls away from him, and Jason has to be reassured that it isn’t some freakishly long-lasting pollen, Tim just has a lot of issues with touch starvation.
> 
> ~~Jason doesn’t take gleeful advantage of this, no siree, and he _definitely_ doesn’t dangle hair pets as a bribe whenever he wants something.~~


End file.
